Her Perfect Beginning
by pinkswallowsun
Summary: 'A perfect day can only be perfect if it is shared with the right person; if not, the whole thing falls apart within a few months, and that once-pefect day is forever tarnished.' Nikki's thoughts and reflection on her own perfect day. H/N Oneshot.


**I'm back! And I wasn't sure about this; it came to me on the way home while watching the music video for the song, 'Best thing I never had,' Beyoncé, and I couldn't quite let it go. So I gave it my best shot :) I'm not sure it's brilliant, which is why your feedback would be much appreciated. **

**This can be read either by Lighthouse readers as a teaser for chapters/stories yet to come, or by non-Lighthouse readers as a oneshot; it should make sense to everyone regardless. Although hopefully if you haven't read the Lighthouse series yet, this will encourage you to :) Not that I'm a review junkie or anything :)**

**There will be more L in L and Pandora's Box coming your way very soon too, I just need to settle back home a bit. And this is dedicated to everyone who's been reviewing my fics while I've been away, especially to anyone still waiting for their 'fairy tale moment'. (you'll see what I mean). So please, enjoy, and leave me some feedback, even if it's just a couple of words. Your reactions and requests influence what I write next, so I need you to tell me what you like and what you want :)**

**Lots of love, Flossie xxx**

**Her Perfect Beginning**

**Saturday 11****th**** April 2020**

She didn't quite recognise her own reflection as she looked in the mirror. It was more make-up than she would usually wear, applied better than she would ever have been able to do herself. Thank god for Sara's daughter Zaretta, that was all she had to say on the matter. The thin grey-red scar across her cheek which had never quite managed to heal was concealed beneath a layer of foundation, one imperfection less on a day when appearance mattered more than usual. She had never been particularly vain but today, today was different. Today was special, today was something she had never dared imagine could happen, not in reality. And it was going to be perfect.

Her hair had been left curly, piled up delicately on the top of her head and pinned carefully in place, a few blonde curls left to hang over her right shoulder, and small sections of loose hair framing her face at the front. She blinked at her reflection for a moment, marvelling at the transformation, suddenly nervous. Her hands shook as she opened the small black box on the dressing table, pushed in the earrings, fastened her mother's necklace around her neck, checked over her newly painted nails one last time for scratches. Still it didn't seem real, still she couldn't quite accept that it was finally happening, to her, after so many years of let-downs and patient waiting. Finally, she was about to have her moment.

_**There was a time, I thought that you did everything right,**_

_**No lies, no wrong, I must have been out of my mind,**_

_**So when I think of the time that I almost loved you,**_

_**You showed your ass and I saw the real you.**_

It was rather alarming to look back now, look back and realize how horribly wrong things could have gone, what a huge great mess she could have so easily made of her life. A perfect day can only be perfect if it is shared with the right person; if not, the whole thing falls apart within a few months, a couple of years at the most, and suddenly that once-perfect day becomes forever tarnished in one's mind, a fairy tale moment no longer. And that could so easily have been her. Two words: Anton Radebe.

_**Thank God you blew it, thank God I dodged the bullet,**_

_**I'm so over you, so good looking out,**_

_**I wanted you bad, I'm so through with it,**_

_**Because honestly you turned out to be the best thing I never had,**_

_**And I'm going to always be the best thing you never had.**_

_**I bet it sucks to be you right now.**_

She found it strange to think of him now, almost 10 years later. It had been months, maybe even years, since his name had entered her head, and yet today it had come flooding back to her, her mind filled with memories from that summer in Cape Town. She had thought she had loved him- Anton- back then. He had told her towards the end of her first week back in South Africa that he had felt a connection from the moment Sara had introduced them, and at the time, she had thought she had felt it too. She had thought him to be better than her previous string of boyfriends, 'the unsuitables', as Harry called them. She had thought it was love for him that she was experiencing, love and longing to spend her life with him, but the older she grew and the wiser and more experienced she became, the more she began to understand. It had never been love for Anton she had been experiencing all those years ago; it had never been him she had wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

It had been Africa, pulling her back to her plains, her beaches, her mountains, her deserts, seducing her with her natural beauty and peacefulness, engulfing her in her clutches. It had been a longing to have some time home in the safe haven that was Africa which she was experiencing, and that, along with a fierce desperation to feel loved and wanted, had caused her to believe the love in her heart was for Anton, that her life was to be lived with him. It had been easier to believe that, she supposed, because to admit to herself who she had really fallen head-over-heels in love with would have left her in a dilemma, in more ways than one. She couldn't have contemplated staying in Africa without Anton; he was her excuse, something to believe in, a vague, thin yet still existent hope of a happy ending, of finally settling down with someone. It had allowed her to believe, just for a little while, that she had someone who loved and cared about her, who treated her like an equal. If only that last part had been true. If only Anton hadn't proved himself to be just another of 'the unsuitables' before her trip was even over, just as she had convinced herself that he was all she wanted.

_**So sad you're hurt, but did you ever expect me to care?**_

_**You don't deserve my tears, I guess that's why they ain't there,**_

_**When I think that there was a time that I almost loved you,**_

_**You showed your ass and I saw the real you.**_

She had known at the time that she would remember that break up forever more, and 10 years later, she was proven right. Not because it was especially traumatic as her break-ups went; for an entirely different and unpredictable reason. Because she hadn't shed a tear, not one; she hadn't been able to cry over him. At the time she had thought it was partly due to Anton showing his true colours and his lying, concealing tendencies, and partly because she was a cold, self-centred person incapable of showing any real emotion; maybe that was why things hadn't worked out between them. But now, looking back, reflecting, she saw the truth of the matter. She hadn't cried because she hadn't loved him, not really. She hadn't loved Anton Radebe himself; she had loved what he could have meant, the changes he could have brought to her life. She couldn't see him moving to England, not in a million years, and so they would have lived in Cape Town, she would have been back in Africa, the place she seemed to have unintentionally fallen in love with all over again. And Anton also came with children, children whose biological mother had died, which would have meant that she could take on a motherly role in their lives. And if there was one thing she had been longing for around that time, ever since, it had been children. She had wanted to be a mother so badly, to be needed, depended on. She had wanted a purpose in life, a 24/7 responsibility to someone she loved that only motherhood could bring. And as crazy as it sounded, 10 years older and wiser, part of her believed that desire had been so strong that she had confused the vast jumble of emotions in her head for love for Anton Radebe.

So she had flown back to England, drowned her sorrows in a bottle of South African red purchased on the way out, felt immensely guilty for her lack of tears for a while before finally pulling herself together and carrying on as normal. But she wasn't alone. Someone else had been there with her every step of the way, comforting her reassuring her… loving her in just the way she had hardly dare to dream he did. She just hadn't noticed it at the time. She had realized one thing though, in her obliviousness. She had realized that however much she had fallen back in love with Africa, she could never move back out there, not permanently. Because there was something, or rather, someone, whom she loved a thousand times more.

_**Thank God you blew it, thank God I dodged the bullet,**_

_**I'm so over you, so good looking out,**_

_**I wanted you bad, I'm so through with it,**_

_**Because honestly you turned out to be the best thing I never had,**_

_**And I'm going to always be the best thing you never had.**_

_**I bet it sucks to be you right now.**_

Nowadays, she thanked God every day that she never saw fit to settle down with any of 'the unsuitables', and that she didn't ruin her chances with the only man she had ever truly loved. She was too good for him, for Anton, that was what her daughter told her. How anyone could be so good at girly chats and words of reassurance at 8 years old and having never met the man in question she didn't know- not that she was complaining. She knew she was lucky to have her, impossibly lucky. God, she was lucky to have both of them.

Looking back, she realized she had always loved Harry Cunningham, right from their first meeting in the Lyell Centre, when she had dumped a pile of Iron Age bones on his desk and refused to leave. He had always felt the same, she knew that now; it had just taken them 7 years, a severe amount of heartache and trauma and a little faith and daring for either of them to do anything about it. It hadn't been an easy ride- far from it, in fact- and the whole thing had almost fallen apart on numerous occasions, but they had made it through in the end, found the glimmer of hope at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

And no they were here, she mused, unzipping the black dress bag hanging over the back of the door and carefully lifting out the folds of ivory fabric, draping it out along the bed. It had taken her months to find the perfect dress; Harry had jokingly told her that served her right for being so bloody picky. But she had waited so long for this day, for her fairy tale moment, and after all the trials and tortures of the years leading up to this point, she had wanted every last detail to be perfect, dress included. Eventually she had found what she was looking for in a small, family-run boutique in Hampshire, on the way home from visiting Harry's mother. She had made her fiancé wait outside as she had browsed the dresses, finally finding one that was just perfect, before returning the following day with her 'advisors'. And it was only as she walked out of the shop an hour later, having placed her order, that for the first time in her life, it felt as if she might get her happily ever after moment after all.

_**I know you want me back, but it's time to face the facts,**_

_**That I'm the one that's got away,**_

_**Lord knows that it would take another place, another time,**_

_**Another world, another life,**_

_**Thank God I found the good in goodbye.**_

She had received a letter from Anton a few weeks after buying the dress; apparently he had heard about her engagement from Sara. He had still been in prison then, something Nikki felt slightly guilty about, but hey, that was another story, and certainly not important today. It wasn't her fault that his head and his fists didn't quite connect with each other, as Harry had told her time and time again. And she certainly wasn't going to let it spoil what was supposed to be the best day of her life.

But the letter had touched her, in a way she hadn't quite expected. He had said that he missed her, that he still loved her, that he always would, but that at the same time he understood that she and Harry were very much in love and he wished her every happiness together. Somehow, even after everything he did back then, after all the deviance and lies, she felt strangely comforted by his approval. Maybe it was because she knew him to be an excellent judge of character, to be clever, sharp. And his approval assured her that she were doing the right thing in agreeing to marry Harry.

Commitment phobia had been a part of her and her relationships for as long as she could remember; something which drew her away from people just as things began to get serious, broke her heart and saved it both at the same time. And she had been so afraid at first as things began to get more and more serious between her and Harry, terrified that it would all be too much and she would resort to old tactics, pushing him away forever before even fully realizing it, losing her best friend, her lover, her family, her sole reason for existence, save a child who clung to life with great uncertainty, all at once. But he had been so patient, so gentle, so understanding… he hadn't allowed her to make a mess of things as she had a thousand times before. Instead, he had held her close and told her he loved her, that she was beautiful and clever and worth a so much more than she gave herself credit for, and repeated the whole process again and again tirelessly, until she finally began to believe it, just a little. And for that, he was her saving grace. She felt so lucky to have him, so grateful that the two of them had found each other, had plucked up the courage to take a chance and reach the perfection they were today. She couldn't imagine her life without him anymore, but then, she hadn't been able to do that for years. The difference was that now, she felt it in a different way. Because he was now more than her best friend, and she more than his; they were each other's lives, their purposes. And in roughly an hour now, they would be something even more, bound forever in a pact of eternal love.

_**I used to want you so bad, I'm so through with that,**_

_**Because honestly you turned out to be the best thing I never had,**_

_**You turned out to be the best thing I never had,**_

_**And I will always be the best thing you never had.**_

She slipped into the dress slowly, cautiously, her stomach filled with butterflies now this stage of proceedings had finally come.

"Joycelin!" she called around the door as she pulled the dress up, smoothing the silky material into place and trying to stop her hands from shaking excessively.

"Hmm?" her daughter asked, stepping into the room at the sound of her mother's voice and swinging the door shut behind her, dressed in a floaty lilac dress, a lilac flower clip holding back her chocolate brown curls on one side of her head and a gold bangle around her wrist, the small gold dragonfly embellishment on it a perfect replica of the pendent on her mother's necklace. "Dad just called; he says if you're not at the beach within ten minutes of the time on the invitations, he's marrying Zak instead."

"Oh he does, does he?" her mother laughed, trying to conceal her nerves. She turned her back to her daughter, staring out of the window down on the garden below. "Can you do the back of my dress, please?"

"Sure," Joycelin nodded, pulling over the stool from the dressing table and kneeling on it in order to get at a better height to tie off the back of her mother's dress. "Is that too tight?"

"That's fine," her mother assured her, fiddling with her engagement ring as Joycelin's fingers brushed against her back. "I'd rather you did it too tight than too loose. And why am I trusting you to do this, anyway?" she teased.

"Because I'm very responsible," her daughter replied, climbing off the stool and returning it to its position beneath the dressing table. "Done," she announced as her mother turned around to face her. "You look beautiful."

"Honest?"

Joycelin rolled her eyes. "Mummy, it's your wedding day, the whole point is that you look beautiful. I wouldn't tell you that if I didn't mean it."

"Thank you," her mother replied softly, leaning down to kiss her gently. "I love you, you know that?"

"Of course I do. You don't need to tell me that." Joycelin looked up at her mother, then frowned. "Are you crying?"

She sighed, wondering how to explain something so complex and confusing to her daughter when she barely understood it herself. "Yes Josi, but not like that. Just because… because I never thought I'd get this."

"A happy ending?"

"No, not quite. 'Happy ending' suggests everything ends after today. That's why I'm crying sweetheart, because these last few years with you and your daddy have been so perfect, and this is only the start of it, and I never…" she broke off, the emotions of the day already becoming too much. "I never thought I'd get to have a proper family, let alone one as special as you two."

"But you deserve it, Mummy," Joycelin insisted, handing her mother a tissue as she took her hand and pulled her away from the window, towards the door. "A happily ever after, or a happy beginning, or whatever you want to call it. You really do, you deserve it. You mustn't ever think you don't." She stopped, her face breaking into a grin. "But you won't get it if Uncle Zak beats us to the beach!"

"OK, I'm coming!" her mother laughed, dropping the tissue into the bin and crossing to the dressing table, bending to pull on her shoes, pick up the veil. "Go and tell everyone we're leaving in 2 minutes, I'll be right behind you, OK?"

Nikki Alexander took one last long look at her reflection in the mirror as she fixed the veil into her hair, checking herself over once more. The next time she looked in a mirror, she mused, she would be Nikki Cunningham, no longer belonging to Harry in all but name. It hadn't turned out badly; she smiled to herself as she slipped through the door, lifting her dress as she began her descent down the stairs. She could have made a huge mess of her life, quite easily, she could have confused her mish-mash of feelings for love for a man she didn't really want to spend her life with. But it had all turned out alright in the end. More than alright; perfect. And as she followed her daughter out of the front door, her mind wandering to Harry and imagining him standing on the beach beside the registrar, fidgeting nervously as more and more guests began to arrive and wondering exactly how late she was going to be, the warmth she felt in her heart as his name crossed her mind assured Nikki that she wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
